


Professor Don't-fucking-look-at-my-Omega

by shamelessllamapeanutthing



Series: Izzah's Omegaverse ficlets [2]
Category: Yuri!!! on Ice (Anime)
Genre: Age Swap, Alpha Katsuki Yuuri, Alternate Universe - College/University, Bottom Victor Nikiforov, Day 3, Jealous Katsuki Yuuri, M/M, Omega Victor Nikiforov, Possessive Behavior, Possessive Katsuki Yuuri, Roleplay, Smut, Table Sex, Teacher-Student Relationship, Top Katsuki Yuuri, Victor is a little shit, YOI Omegaverse Week, pure filth I am warning you
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-08
Updated: 2020-08-08
Packaged: 2021-03-06 07:28:29
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,857
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25789609
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/shamelessllamapeanutthing/pseuds/shamelessllamapeanutthing
Summary: With crazy amounts of will power, Yuuri tears his eyes off Victor’s coquettish smirk and tries to focus on the textbook. He can hear himself calling out the page number he plans to start. He even goes so far as to read out the entire lesson plan for that particular chapter before he lets himself look at his Omega.… who currently has his pencil ‘innocently’ stuck between his pouting lips, slowly, inconspicuously inching it in and out of his mouth.… and of course, Yuuri’s students are too busy running their eyes over each and every inch of his Victor to actually pay attention to the class.Yuuri itches to rip every single one of their eyes out of their eye sockets.
Relationships: Katsuki Yuuri/Victor Nikiforov
Series: Izzah's Omegaverse ficlets [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1920304
Comments: 18
Kudos: 213
Collections: YOI Omegaverse Week





	Professor Don't-fucking-look-at-my-Omega

**Author's Note:**

> Pure, absolute filth. 
> 
> Age swap, Yuuri is older than Victor. 
> 
> Sorry for typos/mistakes/errors. I will edit them out when I am not so ready to fucking drop dead.

Yuuri grits his teeth. Victor Nikiforov is a bloody annoying motherfucker. 

The Omega smiles at Yuuri from the front row of seats, right in front of Yuuri’s desk, and leans back on where his right hand rests on the bench concealed behind his table. The collar of Victor’s baby blue shirt falls a little bit further along his collarbone, revealing creamy skin and a clavicle marked with hickeys Yuuri had given the Omega just last night. It’s downright obscene, and Yuuri can’t look away. 

Just like Victor’s seat mate, and the peon who just entered the class to hand Yuuri the attendance register he forgot in his office, and the student leaning forward from the row above Victor’s to peak down the Omega’s shirt. 

Blinding white jealousy struggles to commandeer full control of Yuuri’s mind from the burning arousal pooling in his loins. Victor just brings out his lip balm, screws upon the lid of the small tub and casually starts swiping a lathered finger across his lips. 

Yuuri curses, and so begins another day of Yuuri trying to remain professional and teach Japanese to his last hour with the third years, while his Omega boyfriend sits and evokes soft-porn appropriate tactics to seduce the Alpha and get him to mess up.

Victor didn’t originally take this class. He was pretty affluent in Japanese given he had been dating Yuuri for five years now. It was one day, after Yuuri, innocent, gullible Yuuri mentioned to the human succubus how he had been nurturing a teacher-student fantasy since he was a teenager, that Victor brought out his old school uniform, tied his hair in a ponytail like he used to wear to school and dragged Yuuri to his office. 

It’d been one of the best fucks of Yuuri’s entire life, and they recreated it several times, but Victor the little shit, working as an Instagram influencer and make up YouTuber, had too much time on his hand and enjoyed nothing more than teasing amd torturing his Alpha till Yuuri was growling mess of hormones, decided to get his father, Yakov fucking Feltsman, to pull some strings, enrolled in the university where Yuuri taught and took up his class. 

With crazy amounts of will power, Yuuri tears his eyes off Victor’s coquettish smirk and tries to focus on the textbook. He can hear himself calling out the page number he plans to start. He even goes so far as to read out the entire lesson plan for that particular chapter before he lets himself look at his Omega. 

… who currently has his pencil ‘innocently’ stuck between his pouting lips, slowly, inconspicuously inching it in and out of his mouth. 

… and of course, Yuuri’s students are too busy running their eyes over each and every inch of his Victor to actually pay attention to the class. 

Yuuri itches to rip every single one of their eyes out of their eye sockets. He keeps himself from growling because Alpha who’s bonded Omega is being ogled right in front of his fucking eyes or not, he is extremely professional and very much not a heathen, thank you. 

He does slam his duster against the table, though, hard enough to make everyone in the front six rows jolt up straight, earning some sheepish, some brazenly annoyed glances. 

Victor snickers, low and smokey, blinking up at Yuuri with his annoyingly long and pretty silver lashes. Yuuri thinks he might die. 

Giving Victor a warning glare, he turns towards the blackboard and for a second, lets his head fall against it, before taking a deep breath and soldiering on. Just one hour, sixty minutes, thirty minutes twice, ten minutes six times. 

By the time he turns around, Victor has popped another button. 

Fuck.

…

“Mr. Nikiforov,” Yuuri’s smile is tight. The students passing by his desk to snicker behind their palms. Victor is lingering as always and looks up at Yuuri with a deceptively innocent smile. 

“Yes, Professor?” 

He looks so sweet when he smiles. Yuuri wants to eat him up.

A cocky Alpha towards the back, Jean Jacques or Jim Jam or Jolly Jack, is staring at Victor’s butt with clear hunger in his eyes. The hall is mostly empty, there are not a lot of people to watch him lose his temper, and that’s the excuse he is going to give if ever in future, anyone asks him why he growled at a student with the intensity of a hormonal Alpha from the medieval times challenging another to a fight. 

JJ frowns, looks like he just might retaliate, but Isabella, another gorgeous and relatively level-headed Alpha places a hand on his shoulder. 

JJ shrinks under her touch and looks away. Yuuri doesn’t understand their dynamic but the little display and look on Isabella’s face make it obvious that JJ is the last person who’d pose a threat to Yuuri. 

He watches them leave, and turns to face Victor, who stands attentively beside his desk. 

“Your grades are slipping.” They absolutely aren’t. Yuuri lost all his patience sometime in the middle of the lecture, and he hopes the strain in his voice isn’t obvious to the lingering students. “I want to see you in my office before you leave for home. I trust this is your last lecture for the day?” 

Victor nods and Yuuri bristles at the cheeky smirk on his face. 

“Yes, Professor.” 

… 

The two minutes Yuuri has before Victor joins him, he takes to breathe and calm himself down. Victor has been playing these games for weeks now. The entire college wants to get into the Omega’s pants and he loves rubbing it in Yuuri’s face, doing everything in his power to rile the Alpha up and make his guts burn. 

Yuuri thinks its about time the Omega gets a good reminder of just who he belonged to. 

“You called, my love?”, Victor purrs when he closes the door to Yuuri’s office behind him with a bump of his bum. His hands rest on his delicate hips and his smile is crooked in that vaguely heart shape his mouth forms when he is happy. 

Something inside of Yuuri crows and he hastily smothers it, whatever it is. It feels too warm to belong in the act he’s about to take on. 

“That’s Katsuki-san to you, Mr. Nikiforov.” He keeps his eyes stern, feeling a thin tendril of amusement climb up his chest when Victor looks stunned for a second.

Then, the clever blue eyes sharpen, and Yuuri knows Victor’s on board. 

“Sorry, Professor. You look so dashing with your glasses and you waistcoats, it’s easy to forget myself sometimes.”

Yuuri wants to roll his eyes and laugh at the same time. Leave it to Victor to take every moment possible to try to flatter Yuuri. Outwardly, he just clicks his tongue with a vaguely disapproving expression on his face. 

“This is the issue, Mr. Nikiforov. Your behaviour is unacceptable, you don’t just forget yourself, you blast propriety and professionalism right through the window every time you walk into my class in those tight shorts that might as well not be there.”, Yuuri crosses his arms and leans back in his chair. 

“I don’t see you having this discussion with any of my other classmates, who’ve worn the same and worse.” Victor points out, mostly because he’s shit at playing a role. Or, Yuuri thinks, maybe he isn’t playing one. He is Yuuri’s student, technically. 

The thrill in Yuuri’s belly feels too sinful for him to acknowledge. 

“That’s because none of them are doing it to rile me up specifically, are they?”, Yuuri raises a brow and Victor smiles innocently. 

“That’s a pretty bold assumption there, isn’t it, Professor? I’d say the way you look at me specifically is the problem. Some might even say it’s inappropriate.” Victor mirrors Yuuri’s expression and Yuuri pities any Professors who might have had to deal with Victor in high school. 

“Are you a part of that ‘some’? Do you think I look at you inappropriately in class?” 

Victor beams. “Absolutely!”, he says. “But I don’t mind.” 

Yuuri sees Victor’s buttons are done up again, but he took the time to tuck his shirt into his shorts, highlighting the beautiful curve of his waist and hips. Yuuri thinks he is a sly piece of shit. 

He wants to jump the sly piece of shit, drag the shorts off his long, muscled legs and choke on his cock. 

Digging his nails in his palm Yuuri frowns up at Victor. 

“This is the issue, Mr. Nikiforov. You trying to seduce me is leading you to imagine things that aren’t there. We need to maintain our distance, as teacher and student, but I do know if it was that easy for you, we won’t be having this conversation at all.”

“What do you suggest, Alpha?” 

Yuuri groans at how cliche this is, at how easily Victor brings him to his knees every time he calls Yuuri that. Victor smirks, and probably gives himself a point in his head. 

“I suggest we fuck this bizarre fixation right out of your system, Mr. Nikiforov.” 

Victor can’t help the chuckle that bursts out and Yuuri gives him a fond little smile for a second, knowing Victor has just ticked at least ten checkmarks on their imaginary tally. 

Yuuri doesn’t really have any qualms admitting that he can’t control himself any longer. He wants the Omega, and doesn’t mind hurrying this up a little. 

“So much for maintaining professional distance.”, Victor chirps. 

“Do you have a better idea?” 

Victor shakes his head, and drops his bag to the floor. Rounding Yuuri’s table he comes to stand in front of Yuuri, between his spread legs. 

“How do you want me, Alpha? Or should I call you Professor?”

Yuuri gives five seconds to judge the distance between them, and make sure he won’t bump Victor’s head on his desk. Satisfied, he latches on to Victor’s wrist and with a twist of his wrist, pulls the lithe Omega to lay across his lap, butt in the air, and head hanging down the other end. 

Victor gasps. Yuuri takes a handful of Victor’s left buttcheek and squeezes harder than he can ever remember squeezing as he breathes in Victor’s sweet scent. 

“Professor is fine.”, he whispers. 

“What?”, Victor asks, voice breathless, but not with arousal this time. 

“You didn’t think you weren’t going to be punished for your behaviour, I hope.” 

Shameless as always, Victor moans. His eyelids lower halfway over his eyes. Yuuri smirks satisfied, and awards himself some twenty points. 

“Of course not.”, Victor squeaks. 

Reaching down under his desk, Yuuri removes the object he had hidden there just this morning. He had ordered this package to his college mail address, because he wanted to surprise Victor and it had arrived this very day. 

Victor’s breath hitches in his throat as his eyes catch sight on the paddle in Yuuri’s hand, the paddle with a ridiculously cute heart cut out, bound to leave an imprint of the same on Victor’s ass. The Omega whimpers, and Yuuri thinks he is incredibly lucky that Victor fell in love with him. 

“It’s annoying, Mr. Nikiforov, that your attempts to seduce me are so blatantly obvious to everyone else around you, and incredibly effective no less. If it’s meant to be mine, it should only be visible to me, don’t you think?” 

“Are you jealous, Professor.” It’s a statement. Victor is still unable to look away from the paddle, however. 

“Not so much as I am irritated.”, With a hand Yuuri tugs Victor’s shorts down and shirt up the gorgeous swell of his plump butt. He isn’t wearing underwear, because of course he isn’t. Yuuri glides the paddle up Victor’s thighs and ass, watching him clench his butt. “You disrupt my class, and distract me from my lessons. It’s not how a good Omega should behave.” 

“Good Omegas are boring.” Victor complains. 

Suddenly, Yuuri lands the first slap of the paddle on Victor’s left buttcheek. The Omega hisses in pain, and jumps. Yuuri tightens his grip on Victor’s back. 

“Wanna try that again? 

Victor nods, and Yuuri rubs a soothing palm over his skin. 

“I am sorry, Professor, I will be good from now on.” 

Yuuri brings down the paddle again, harder than the first time. Victor groans, better prepared for the hit when it comes. 

“That sounds better. How many more,” Yuuri pushes the top of the paddle between Victor’s ass cheeks, rubbing it up his cleft and hole. “Strikes do you think it’d take to make you remember that?” 

“Five, I think five would be fine.” Victor manages to mask the arousal Yuuri can feel tenting against his thigh with a fairly believable layer of fear. 

“Ten, then. Count them for me, Mr. Nikiforov.” 

“One!”, Victor gasps as the paddle rings against his skin. 

Without giving a pause, Yuuri brings his hand down again. His eyes revel in the sight of Victor's slick already pooling and leaking out, down the back of his balls and dripping to the floor. 

“Two!” Victor bucks against him. 

The third one falls just as quick as the second. “Three” Victor grits out. 

Yuuri pauses, allows him a few seconds to breathe. So many years with Victor have taught him how to read the Omega’s discomfort right from his tone. 

He takes the time to survey Victor’s ass again, starting to bloom red. A faint shadow of lighter skin in the shape of a heart on his left cheek makes Yuuri smile. He wants to kiss the area but doesn’t want to break character. 

Sensing the ease in Victor’s breathing, Yuuri brings the paddle down for the final time on his left cheek, waits for Victor to count it and then moves on. 

The first slap on Victor’s right butt makes him jump, the second he is better prepared for, panting as he grits out a low “Six.” Yuuri runs his hands over the back of Victor’s thighs, loathe for a second that they are in a roleplay. He’d very much like to kiss the Omega for half an hour, for every single time he hits him. 

He brings the paddle down in rapid succession for the last four times, till Victor’s eyes are leaking wet spots on Yuuri’s pant leg and his butt is delightfully red and marked. Yuuri wants to bite the hearts imprinted on his bum, decides why the hell not, and does. 

Victor whimpers and sobs, fists clenching in the fabric of Yuuri’s pants. 

“Stand up, Mr. Nikiforov.” 

For a second, he debates pressing Victor back down on his desk but judges it cruel by the wobble in Victor’s stance when he straightens. With a gentle hand to the back of his thigh, Yuuri guides him to lean down on his desk, ass up in the air again, cheek pressed against the gorgeous, cool mahogany of the table.

Yuuri stands up behind Victor, pressing his hips against the shorter man’s ass and almost hissing at the blessed contact his erection had been craving. Unable to hold himself, he grinds against Victor and revels in the light huff of laughter that draws from the Omega. 

He reaches up, tugging out the hairband holding Victor’s hair into a ponytail and watches, mesmerised, as the curtain of silky white hair falls across his milky back, strands pooling on Yuuri’s desk in stark contrast. 

The Omega is gorgeous. 

With a snap, Yuuri opens his drawer and pulls out the lube he carried everywhere, ever since he started dating Victor sex-on-legs Nikiforov. Despite the Omega's natural slick, he preferred to use it. 

A hand works at Yuuri’s zip, the other hastily pulling Victor’s barely-hanging shirt completely out of the way. Now that he has felt a hint of friction on his cock he can’t stop. His entire being thrums with arousal, erection twitching at the sight of Victor, ass bare and glistening with pooling slick as he remains spread over Yuuri’s desk. He feels a thick, hot coil of something he really can’t name claw up his throat and with a growl, he latches on to Victor’s hair, pulls his head up and bites down the juncture of his shoulder and neck. 

Victor cries out, and squirms against Yuuri’s cock. Yuuri groans and grabs on to Victor’s throat. 

“I really, really don’t like it Vitya, how they look at you, my Omega, my Mate. You’re mine, baby. All mine, forever. Don’t you ever dare forget that.” 

Victor raises himself on the hands he has flat on Yuuri’s desk, back arching into Yuuri’s touch with a needy whine. 

“All yours, all yours, Alpha.” Victor moans. 

Satisfied, Yuuri pushes Victor’s head back on to the desk, hands clumsily grasping the lube bottle with feverish passion, almost dropping it once and catching it purely by chance. 

He uncaps the bottle with such vigour that it flies right off of the bottle. Cursing, he unloads a little too much of the cool liquid on his palm. Beneath him, Victor chuckles. 

“Patience, Professor.”

“Shut up, you.” 

Victor laughs louder and Yuuri is reminded of just how much he won’t give to protect that sounds forever.

By the time Yuuri manages to open Victor up enough to fit two fingers in, he is frowning and gritting his teeth with impatience. Sweat beads on his brow, on the small of Victor’s back, between the Omega’s spread apart thighs, and the mingling is driving Yuuri near insane. 

“That’s enough. I am ready, I am ready. Give it to me.”, Victor begs, and then adds, as an afterthought, “Professor.” 

It’s difficult to resist the temptation. 

“Just a while more, Mr. Nikiforov.”, he grits. 

“Now, now.”, Victor pants. 

Yuuri keeps his eyes on the red swell of Victor’s ass as he hooks an arm around his left thigh and lifts it on to the table, spreading the Omega open as wide as he can go. Victor moans and clenches tight around Yuuri’s fingers. 

Fuck fuck fuck fuck 

Yuuri pulls his fingers out, and leans down to lick a stripe up Victor’s winking asshole. Quickly, he lubes himself up and lines the head of his dick with Victor’s hole. Keeping his ass cheeks spread, he breaches the tight ring of muscles at the entrance with a loud groan. 

Victor’s hands clamber to hold on to something, and hang on to the opposite edge of the table. 

“Oh, Professor. Oh you’re filling me up so good.”, he calls out as Yuuri slowly moves in till he’s fully sheathed inside the Omega. 

Victor is a mouthy lay. Yuuri likes to joke it’s not just Victor’s ass Yuuri’s dick opens up but also his mouth, and it doesn’t close till he pulls out. 

Carefully, Yuuri pulls out of Victor, watching the side of Omega’s face for any signs of hurt. Victor moans brokenly and begs him to continue. 

Yuuri complies. 

The first thrust tears an obscenely loud moan out of Victor and Yuuri doesn’t have the heart to shush him, his pride growing three sizes too thick at the thought of Victor nearly screaming on his desk, impaled on his cock, calling him Professor, shoulder decorated with love bites he put there, all his, all his.

Yuuri’s hips snap against Victor’s ass and his hands scramble to unbutton his pants so he can feel Victor’s soft, soft skin against his. Victor cries out in joy once the fabric is out of the way. 

“Hands, hands in my hair, Professor, please.” He mutters between broken sighs as Yuuri fucks him, long, hard and fast. 

Yuuri obeys, fingers tightening in Victor’s hair, pulling, pulling till Victor’s body is a gorgeous curve reaching towards him. The Omega sobs, laughs, moans, neither of them can tell what the sound is anymore, lost in the dirty faps of skin slapping skin. Victor clenches around him, soft with lube and delightfully tight. Yuuri feels the soles of his feet tremble, heat pooling in his belly already. 

Victor shivers and cries out, tries to muffle the sound by biting his lip and fails with a loud gasp of Yuuri’s name, clearly forgetting to stay in character. Yuuri calls this day his win and shut ups, because he doesn’t wanna lose, but he doesn’t wanna call Victor Mr. Nikiforov either. 

Feeling Victor’s moans turning breaking into sobbing sighs more and more, Yuuri presses his palm down on Victor’s back and lifts his own knee on to the table, throwing his pelvis into the thrusts with complete abandonment. Victor’s walls hug him with delightful snugness and Yuuri feels his orgasm approaching, hot and heavy as he drives into Victor mercilessly, the sweet broken moans of the Omega only helping to push him over the edge. 

“Fuck, fuck!”, Yuuri almost sings, voice stuttering as he presses Victor’s back down and simultaneously tightens his hold in his hair. With three more thrusts, quicker and shorter now, he cums inside of the Omega, watching his seed pool out of Victor’s gaping hole as he pulls out. 

It is easily Yuuri’s favourite part of fucking Victor, this image of the Omega, wanton and vulnerable, painted with Yuuri’s spend. 

Victor is panting, forehead pressed against the wood of Yuuri’s table. When Yuuri leans to the side, he sees spittle pooling out of Victor’s open, gasping mouth on to the desk, notices his loose fingers and relaxed muscles. 

“Did you cum, Mr. Nikiforov?” 

Victor nods, and Yuuri gazes down at where his small, pink cock has splattered Yuuri’s desk with ribbons of white. He grins. 

“I imagined how we must be looking, and I couldn’t hold back.” The Omega admits sheepishly. Yuuri allows himself to break out of character for a second, because his boyfriend is the cutest person in the world, and kiss Victor’s damp forehead, and then his cheek for good measure. 

He knows he will have to clean Victor up, prop him straight and dress him too, but before that he fishes out his phone and open up the camera. Placing his softening cock on Victor’s ass, tip lined with the heart imprint on his butt, he pulls Victor’s other cheek away and exposes his hole. Taking a quick long shot of Victor’s entire body, he passes his phone to the Omega, who holds it with such unsteady fingers Yuuri is worried he might drop and shatter it. 

“This is what you looked like to me, Omega.” 

Victor sighs and continues to gaze at the picture. After about ten seconds he mutters, 

“God, I am gorgeous.” 

Yuuri laughs, loud and overjoyed. Of course, Victor would say that. 

“Well?” Yuuri rubs soothing circles along Victor’s spine. “How effective would you say my solution was, Mr. Nikiforov?” 

Victor hums, before a cheeky grin twists his features. Yuuri wants to kiss it. 

“Not as much as I’d hope, Professor. I think it’d take about seven hundred and eighty-nine sessions more, but we’ll get there.” 

Yuuri laughs again and strokes a thumb across Victor’s jaw. The Omega raises his lips and kisses it. 

“If it’s to ensure a safe and productive studying environment for my favorite student, I don’t think I’d mind too much.”

**Author's Note:**

> Please comment and lemme know what you thought???
> 
> Come scream at me about YOI on [my YOI side blog](https://www.tumblr.com/blog/ice-malice) or [my main](https://www.tumblr.com/dashboard/blog/shamelessllamapeanutthing)


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